


In-Betweeners

by orphan_account



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Class Differences, Homeworld Hierarchy (Steven Universe), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of one-shots that follow the ones who didn't belong. They were not wrong enough, but not right enough, either. Some managed to fade into the background, escape, avoid, survive. Many don’t. A wallflower instead of a warrior, a raven instead of a swan, a puzzle instead of a prize, an off-color instead of an overseer – they all had their reasons.





	1. Jasper

**Author's Note:**

> In writing my larger work, Convictions and Captivity, I've thought a lot about war. In making our own histories of war, we tend to hone in on the larger narrative of who attacked who, what year it started, how it ended, etc. Most of the people involved aren't the strategic masterminds or diplomats or terrifying renegades we tend to focus on - many are simple soldiers, citizens, and friends, just trying to make sense of a nonsensical world. Herein, I document some characters that have come into my head at different times for different reasons. I wanted to tell the less glamorous stories, the ones that slip away, in between the cracks of time.

She adjusted her hair nervously so as not to block her gemstone – unlucky placement for her kind, they always told her.

Brought forth from the Beta Kindergarten of the Earth colony, Jasper came out an angle. She remembered it clearly, vividly, spitefully; instead of her forehead, or her eye, or even her nose like the famed warrior, her gem came out just above her right ear. It wasn’t necessarily a bad placement for gems in general, but for a Quartz? Jaspers, Amethysts, Carnelians, Sodalites, Snowflakes, Hematites... they were supposed to be the quintessential warrior, the epitome of fortitude, and the execution of Homeworld's will. Normally, their gems were placed facing outwards in a demonstration of their loyalty and fighting-spirit - chest, nose, forehead, stomach, outer arm. From the moment most Quartz emerged, their gems were a symbol - _I'm not afraid of you._

She was substandard, but operational, and if Homeworld hadn’t needed soldiers so desperately, they would have shattered her immediately. Jasper knew that her Diamond needed her to fight, so fight she did.

But that did not stop her from viewing herself as a failure most days.

And this happened to be the worst day of her life.

Brown and petite, Pearl came bursting through the doors of the barracks, calling out blindly for her Agate. Cara – the Carnelian that oversaw her brigade – tilted her head curiously as the lithe gem squawked for Crazy Lace Agate, busying her little hands by opening every door in the vicinity and fiddling with the hem of her dress. The small gem was an anxious mess, and she nearly melted with relief when the so-named Agate appeared from a hallway, eyebrow raised dubiously.

“What _is_ it, Pearl? You’re going to crack someone with your screeching. Out with it.”

Crazy Lace Agate was the model of authority, poised and dignified. She absolutely domineered the wisp of a gem before her, and Pearl's fear was evident from her trembling hands. Several of Jasper's comrades openly laughed, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cara was absolutely bursting with giggles.

Jasper loved when she laughed, so it felt natural when a smile traced her lips.

In truth, Jasper did not find the situation at all funny – she sort of hated Pearls. Well, no, that’s not true – she didn’t hate Pearls exactly, she hates the _idea_ of Pearls, but she framed was always careful when she framed the issue to her cohort. That sort of talk was traitorous, so she quickly learned to keep those thoughts private.

Their delicate little forms irritated her. She, Jasper XU-598, had been a mistake, as her Agate reminded her constantly, but she was still as strong as the others. And though Quartz, in general, are not known for their wits, Jasper was by no means dumb. She had read the reports, heard the rumors; Homeworld’s control on Earth was slipping, and it was the rushed recklessness of her Kindergartner that caused her to come out wrong. She was supposed to be a proud warrior, fierce and impregnable, but she felt… wrong, bad, different.

If Homeworld hadn’t wasted their resources on Pearls, would they be in a better position in terms of warfare? They would have had more resources and more Peridots focused on the cultivation of warriors, scholars, engineers, and technicians. Not on the refinement of… accessories.

Jasper couldn’t tell anyone – not even Cara – the part that made her feel the worst: she felt a sickening sort of _gratitude_ for Pearls. If Homeworld hadn’t bothered to fashion their little trophies, they would never have gotten so desperate to use a borderline defective soldier like her. She survived because of Pearls – did that make her worth even less than them? She owed this quivering brown thing her whole life, and it only made her hate them all more.

More than once she imagined crushing a Pearl’s form with her weapon – quick and easy, no nonsense. That’s what she was all about – no nonsense, Cara would even tease her that that should be her life motto. _No-Nonsense-Jasper_. That’s why she respected Crazy Lace Agate and Cara and her fellow Quartz so much, and part of the reason why she held Pearls in very low regard.

Their entire existence was the epitome of upper-echelon _nonsense_.

“Earth colony to _Jasper_ , wake up XU-598. You’re missing out, c’mhere.” Jasper blinked several times when she focused on a burnt orange hand waving in front of her vision, bringing her back to reality.

It took her a moment to realize, but the others had all gone, save her and XU-607 who was trying to get her attention. They were more-or-less the same, but this Jasper’s gemstone was located squarely in her chest.

 _Lucky,_ Jasper sneered internally.

Scanning the room, she could hear several voices – definitely those belonging to her fellow soldiers – huffing and laughing outside of the hallway door from which Crazy Lace Agate had originally appeared. The sound was muffled, as the door had been closed at some point in her day-dreaming.

XU-607 lead the way, standing at the door while Jasper’s thick fingers fiddled with the panel in the wall a few times unsuccessfully before the wall revealed a tightly packed corridor ahead. Jasper had to lean over several others, shoving and elbowing and readjusting her hair as she made her way through the thicket, only to find a disturbing image at her feet.

Crazy Lace Agate stood a few feet away from the packed-in Quartz, whip in her hand. Pearl was a static mess on the ground.

Squeezing her way to the front, Cara nudging playfully into her side. “Hey, I was wondering if you would make it! Get in on this – lying little thing said the 55th unit has been defeated – right? And _I’m_ a _Sapphire_.”

Cara was laughing, so, naturally, Jasper smiled. The energy was catching, and she was very aware of Cara’s arm as it rubbed against her in the jostling crowd. Everyone was riled up – by the looks of the Pearl, most of them had laid into her by now. The brown gem’s form was buzzing grotesquely, and the hallway rang with laughter.

It was like someone had knocked Jasper upside the head, a buzzing in her ears telling her _act now, think later._ The sight of the feeble thing on the ground made her body act automatically, and the next thing she knew, her gaze was met with pleading brown eyes as she sprinted down a hallway.

It was hard to say who was more surprised, her or the Pearl, but they looked at each other with utter incredulity on their faces. What was she doing? Where was she even _going_?

It had all happened so fast that her reflexes took charge, for which Jasper was thankful, because she was certain her mind had gone defective. Rounding corners madly through the base, she came to a halt at the threshold of an open door.

“ _Cara_.” The orange gem whispered, a smile tracing her lips in relief. Surely, Cara would make sense of her madness – she always knew what to do.

“Jasper…” her voice was thick with anger and contempt, which made Jasper wince. She had her weapon drawn – an impressive battle-axe that had shattered more than a few gems in her time.

Brow drawn together seriously, Jasper looked between the heap in her arms and her dearest friend before her. “I-I don’t know why I did that, I wasn’t thinking, and – w-wait!”

For reasons she could not understand, Jasper clutched the weak gem closer as Cara swung her axe violently. The movement made her mane of hair tickle her right shoulder.

Cara raged at her. “What are you _doing_? Drop her or you’ll get shattered! I-I’ll do it myself!” Her confidence wavered ever so slightly, but she gripped the axe harder to steady her shaking hands.

But that didn’t feel right to Jasper – she couldn’t explain why. For a flicker of a moment, she slackened her grip on the brown arms nestled against her chest, but it made her angry. Something wasn’t right about it – it wasn’t fair – she couldn’t explain it.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jasper lowered herself and kicked out the Carnelian’s legs, watching the hurt and betray spread across her pretty auburn face.

Then she was running, running, _running_ like she never had before. The sun was bright and warm, the skies were especially blue right then, and the walls were red sandstone for miles. Miles and miles they went, neither speaking until they reached a sea or river or ocean – Jasper couldn’t tell the difference.

At the water’s edge, Pearl bowed her head solemnly, flickering worse than ever, and said what they were both thinking.

“I will… die soon.”

Roughly, the orange gem sat down in the dirt and plopped the brown gem next to her. Jasper did not bother to fix her hair anymore.

“Yeah.”

Jasper didn’t know what else to say, so they looked out at the water for a while. She was kicking herself, angry and disappointed at her own defection – how had she let this happen? She risked her life, threw away her status, and deserted her closest friends to save a Pearl that was not only not worth saving, but she was _beyond_ saving. It didn’t even feel like the tiniest bit of poetic justice.

Clenching her fists, Jasper thought about Cara, and XU-607, and Crazy Lace Agate. She would never see them again.

“You… saved me.” Pearl stated, voice weak.

Had she not been so angry with herself at that moment, Jasper would have snapped at Pearl. Instead, she turned to face the brown gem, her voice thick with regret.

“I only made things worse. It was for nothing.”

Pearl wasn’t sure if it was her because of fleeting life force, but she felt bolder in that moment than she ever had. Ironic that it had to be just before she died.

Gently, a sinewy hand tucked Jasper’s hair away from her gemstone, securing the locks behind her ear. Jasper stiffened at the unexpected touch, turning, and faced the brown gem properly for the first time.

Now she was not looking, but really _seeing_ this gem. Her lean brown face had a sweet, simple smile that made her eyes crinkle in an affectionate way, and Jasper watched as the gemstone on the back of her hand continued to crumble.

“No. You _saved_ me. Thank you _._ ”

Flickering a few more times, the shards fell straight down to the earth in a neat little pile, and the shadow of thin fingers lingered across Jasper’s face.

Jasper was quiet for a while, looking at the shards sparkling prettily under the setting sun. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

She hadn’t saved Pearl. Once again, Pearl had saved her.

“…Thank _you_.”


	2. Black Zircon

_Cadit quaestio_.

Superimposition – the one thing she could do better than anyone else on Homeworld, and arguably, the universe – was going to be the death of her.

Sometimes, Black Zircon heard whispers, but she tried to tell herself she was above it. People would call her the _superimposer_ , which sounds nice in theory, but it was really more of a derogatory term than a charming one. She could evaluate cases, organize arraignments, and indict most defendants with minimal evidence. She was a master narrator, able to weave together testimony and evidence into a convincing argument for almost any case.

There were no whispers anymore, however, as Black Zircon worked on her newest assignment alone.

Really, she felt more of a technician than a lawyer these days. She did not abide by or enforce lawful behavior anymore, oh no. She affixed, rearranged, speculated and calculated much more than she was defending or prosecuting.

In a technical sense, she _was_ prosecuting, but Zircon had never been one to measure her success in technicalities. If she did not find a way to make these next five profiles fit into the mold of siding with the rebellion, they would never be arraigned, and _she_ would be labeled a traitor and shattered or harvested for disobeying her orders.

Black Zircon looked at the files displayed across six separate screens, all cataloging different “rogue” gems. On one end was the traitorous Rose Quartz, her image captured by a wicked sneer with her blade in one hand.

“Enhance,” she said, pulling the screen closer.

Squinting, the black gem rubbed her chin thoughtfully and really _looked_ at this infamous figure. It was tragic, really, for so many people to suffer from such an absolutely ordinary gem. Just another Quartz. Preidctable gem placement, predictable form, predictable pink hair.

Not that she could blame the Quartz for going insane – Zircon had been to the Earth colony once on an assignment, and she would be very glad to never, _ever_ go back.

“Update!” A booming voice sounded behind her suddenly, and the tall gem shot up so quickly her hair flipped backwards, and forward again over her face. She blew an annoyed puff of air up into her bangs, reminding herself to opt for shorter hair the next time she reformed.

Turning, Black Zircon look at the Topaz standing in the doorway, banally short-tongued _and_ short-tempered. It took all of Zircon’s will to still her twitching eye.

“Not yet,” she said through gritted teeth. “I just need more time.”

Topaz pursed her lips, sizing up the barrister through narrowed eyes. “Well, hurry, th – ”

 _Twitch_.

“Let me guess. There are hundreds more that need processing? That’s what you tell me every 10 minutes, after all.”

The yellow eyes turned into lethal slits, daring her to step out of line one more time. Zircon hardly cared; Topaz was not her superior, and these commands weren’t even coming from her Diamond. As far as she cared, she was doing Yellow Diamond’s court a _favor_ , and it was keeping her from her regular duties.

The domineering gem gave her a final nasty look before retreating into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. Immediately, Zircon’s eye started to twitch in earnest.

For someone usually tasked with evaluating the lawfulness of Homeworld’s millions of subjects, Black Zircon was feeling even more pressure than normal. The twitch had been a habit she developed, much to her chagrin, when the war started and everyone’s assignments got shuffled.

Pushing away the left most screen, the black gem ran a hand through her short hair while examining the other five floating projections. How many of these had she done already? Twenty? They were each incredibly difficult, and worse yet, they were absolutely, in no way, whatsoever, lawful. It went against her every instinct as someone _literally_ designed to uphold justice to manipulate evidence to get an indictment.

Justice guided her, and she was proud of that. Black Zircon had existed for over a thousand years already, lived through the birth _and_ death of Pink Diamond, so it was difficult to swallow her convictions and try to parcel them out piecemeal, in accordance with someone else’s agenda.

 _Twitch_.

Tilting her head back and forth, Zircon removed her monocle and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, trying to make the annoying spasm stop. She was very thankful to be in her small office in Research and Development right now, alone, save the Topaz constantly checking on her progress.

Quietly, Zircon looked across the face of her desk, a personal panel for her notes, and let out a groan.

“These just _won’t_ fit together.”

What sort of answer was that? She would be punished severely for disobeying an order, but what was she to do when her orders were impossible to complete? Who was to blame then?

Corruption had one connotation across Homeworld for all gems, except Zircon, who saw it through two lenses. There is the traditional gem-based corruption, and then there was metaphorical corruption at the level of the State. To a lawyer, _that_ was even more reprehensible than physical corruption, and she could not shake off the mounting dread that she was partaking in some highly illegal activities this very moment. There was not a single bad mark in the files against these two Sodalites, this Amethyst, this Galaxite, or this other Zircon.

Maybe _that’s_ what was hanging her up, she decided, sitting down at her desk in frustration. She pushed the screens away and turned off the panel on her desk, wanting a moment of peace to process and to stop her _damn_ eye from twitching.

_Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen… Eighteen._

She counted the groupings off in her head, and multiplied by five, hoping the cold calculations would help her feel better. That was a mistake because the total – the total was _ninety_ gems she was personally responsible for sending to their deaths, guilty before they could ever reach a trial. She had changed their files with hardly permissible evidence, speculative connections at best between this gem’s Kindergarten and the renegade Pearl, or this gem’s Agate was present when Pink Diamond was shattered, so _surely_ she been involved…

This would be the nineteenth group of her panels, although one of them was always the same: the predictable Rose Quartz.

Black Zircon wanted to blame someone else for her actions, and Rose Quartz had been a tempting target up until the fourth or fifth batch of these, but this was almost a _hundred_ gems that she had now screened and forwarded along for processing. This was quickly starting to feel like a “her” problem rather than a “them” one.

Justifying this to herself was particularly hard. There was no context for each set of five gems that came across her desk besides a short profile on their origins, known crimes, powers, gem placement, and a few other obscure details. She _had_ to believe there was a rhyme or reason – a pattern, surely – that she simply was not picking up on. Why would an aristocratic gem like a Galaxite be paired in with two Sodalites? Questions like that were best left unanswered, because it would drive her crazy to think that the profiles of the gems she was sentencing to death were absolutely innocent. That couldn’t be possible.

Right?

_Twitch._

Zircon would modify their histories slightly and then send those back into circulation. Arrest warrant. Trial. Sentence, and sometimes an appeal. The appeal was always rejected, and the gem in question was always shattered. Always.

The scariest part? It usually took no longer than twelve hours for the whole thing. These were colonial courts, split up by districts, so the proceedings were over much faster than a high level prosecution. As soon as the gems were caught, it was over.

Actually, it was over the moment their names came across her desk, but Black Zircon tried not to think about that.

Leaning forward, she pulled the panel with the other Zircon closer to her. This one was green. Of course, this gem’s records were flawless, as were almost all of the profiles who passed her desk these days. How in the name of Homeworld was she supposed to superimpose a narrative onto someone who was her mirror image? To falsify the records of another protector of the law and incriminate her of a crime she had never committed? A rebellion she had nothing to do with?

Examining the files, Black Zircon let out a frustrated growl. Green Zircon hadn’t even been off of Homeworld before; she was straighter than a Jade’s arrow.

They were different gem types, from different eras, made on different colonies, and not a single one of these five gems were anywhere near Earth at the time the rebellion began. She might be good at her job, but she was no miracle worker.

Black Zircon flipped the panel of her desk ‘on’ again, lighting up the darkness of her small office once again. The faces of five gems were starting at her coldly from their panel photographs, with Rose Quartz off to one side, sneering with a blade in her hand.

“Enhance,” she said a second time, but this time she was looking at a green mirror. This time, her eye did not twitch, but was lined with tears.

Why was she getting sentimental? She did not know this Green Zircon from any other, and yet, there was just something about seeing another of her kind like this…

Black Zircon broke down in the privacy of her office, nerves drawn too tightly for too long. She didn’t know how much more of this she could stand.

She cried, and pressed buttons, and moved around facts and did her duty as assigned, but she made one tiny… error? Oh, who was she kidding? She was knowingly falsifying evidence and formal records – under orders of her _own_ government – why bother trying to hide the truth from herself?

By adjusting a few numbers in the registration system, Green Zircon disappeared. Not from reality, of course, but as far as Homeworld could track, she was gone. Gem Z998010123 no longer existed. The records went Z99801022, Z99010124 – Z99010123 was gone, skipped over, poof.

Superimposing was surely going to be the death of her, but maybe she was okay with that after all.


	3. Ruby

Staring at the lightly crackling yellow barrier, the weight of Homeworld crashed down upon her small red shoulders. Ruby wondered if she was dreaming, but she wasn’t, the sound of the Citrine ringing in her ears.

“You failed.”

That wasn’t true – it wasn’t, it couldn’t be.

Ruby traced the outline of her gemstone on the back of her hand, an anxious mess. The distorted yellow face on the otherside of the barrier had spoken words too painful to be true, but yet, the sneer, the tears, the shaking hands… What world was this?

She needed to say something – something, anything – they were going to hurt her. They _wanted_ to hurt her.

Then again, Ruby couldn’t blame them. If she were them, she would want to hurt herself. Maybe she could shatter herself, it could be done, right?

Looking at her feet, sitting along the floor in the middle of the room, Ruby calmly stood up and precluded them the chance to ruin her. They were her superiors, but where she was going, there was no hierarchy. Just pain, blackness, and in her tiniest of hopes, reprieve.

Taking a breath before she smacked the back of her hand against the hard blue walls, she closed her eyes, trying and failing one last time to dispel the memories that had become of her world.

 

* * *

 

After emerging from her gem, the dark maroon comfort that cradled her close like a soft blanket, Ruby found herself in a small holding cell with three cobalt-blue walls and one yellow destabilizing shield – a common transport cell for prisoners. She shot upwards, unsurprised but still fiercely proud, her hands balled into excited fists as she felt around her stomach, the wound nothing but a memory.

They had done it. The rebellion was over.

She had guessed, from what the Grand Clarity had said, that some of them would fall, and it was her duty to protect her charge no matter how dangerous the mission. If anything, Ruby was _proud_ she had been stabbed by the renegade Pearl, to have had the chance to see the whites of her eyes before the lustrous Blue Diamond had captured the rebels and shattered them.

Resting against the surface of her holding cell, she expected to be put in prison for her failures, and that was just fine by her. Her duty, her mission, her purpose was complete, and maybe, _just_ maybe, she would even be pardoned by her Diamond. She could imagine herself, Ruby, and Ruby standing shoulder to shoulder and being congratulated for their heroic courage.

After a blissful few minutes, she scooted closer to the yellow disintegrating light and peered carefully around the corners, to see if she had company, and she did. There were two Citrines and a Jasper at the end of the corridor, speaking with hushed urgency, discussing the play-by-play of Homeworld’s victory, no doubt.

“Hey, hey, over here!” She said, urging them to come to her cell so she could be a part of the discussion.

They all froze at the sound of her voice, perfectly Ruby-esque, sort of stuffy and cute at the same time. Slowly, one of the Citrines turned around and marched down the hallway, her footfalls fierce and menacing. Ruby could only assume she was disappointed this Citrine did not get to see the victory up-close like she had.

“Look whose reformed,” the yellow gem said with scorn.

Raising an eyebrow dubiously, Ruby placed a hand against her chest, flattered. “Yes, I am one of the Rubies who was involved at the Sky Arena. Isn’t it just wonderful?”

The silence was tense as the Citrine studied her, the visage of the yellow gem overcome with loathing.

“ _What_ did you just say?” Her voice was venom, dangerous, and Ruby scooted back slightly at her hostility. The other Citrine and the Jasper had come closer, all of them shaking. Why were they shaking?

 

* * *

 

Ruby blinked in a rush of emotion, feeling cool tears stream down her flaming cheeks. Another Ruby fused with _her_ Sapphire? The renegade and the Rose Quartz, fled? It had been too terrible to believe, but now, studying the back of her hand hovering next to an ice cold wall, she was the one shaking with disbelief.

 _Why, Ruby? Why, how… I trusted you, I_ am _you…_

Horrified, she pulled her hand away and cupped it protectively. Citrine and the others had returned to their post after Ruby had become quiet. She was Ruby, but another Ruby had fused with Her Grand Clarity? Would she… would she have done the same thing, if it had been her?

_No. No, of course not._

Ruby hugged herself, trying to believe her own lies, wanting to believe she was above such atrocities. But was she? She was, _is_ Ruby…

Everything had happened very quickly after that. Ruby had been so distracted, she hadn’t noticed the yellow wall disintegrate, light evaporating into the quiet air, and then, there was pain. So much pain.

Ruby wasn’t sure who hit her first, but she was pretty sure it was the Citrine, practically strangling her the moment the barrier dropped. There were several kicks to the face, a couple of fists to her stomach, and after an intense 60 seconds, Ruby found herself barely conscious, pinned up against the wall by the Jasper, orange hands squeezing on her throat.

“It is _your fault_ this happened. _You_ failed.”

Kicking her tiny legs, Ruby fought out of instinct, but they were right. It was all true.

 _Thud_.

Jasper dropped her and she plummeted straight down onto the ground, and immediately Ruby laid down and grabbed her stomach at the radiating pain from being punished.

Citrine squatted in front of Ruby, hands resting on her yellow knees.

“They _escaped_ , you piece of dirt. You had one job. _One job._ I thought Rubies would do anything for Homeworld, hmm? You couldn’t even _die_ right, you miserable, pathetic runt.”

 Jasper reached out a hand and placed it on the yellow one’s shoulder, trying to pull her out of the cell.

“W-Wait, Citrine, don’t. We had orders.”

She shot up from taunting Ruby, and all of them were surprised to see she was crying.

“I-I don’t… I don’t care. I just want it to be… _over_. We were _so_ close… I want to go _home_. It’s because of _you_!”

Turning in her sudden anger, Citrine stomped down on Ruby’s left hand as hard as she could, and with a quick puff of red smoke, she was gone, replaced by shards and washed away by tears.


End file.
